


Regaining One's Self

by qmzr



Series: Discard Pile? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dimension Travel, F/M, Harry has a pet phoenix, Old Fic, he also has a coyote animagus since i felt like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-05 04:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qmzr/pseuds/qmzr
Summary: After a pyrrhic victory against Voldemort and his death eaters, Fawkes transports him to another world where he attempts to rebuild his life and rekindle lost connections.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic years ago and never really posted it. Some cursory editing has been applied already so it shouldn't be too bad (I typed it on an tablet). This was the first fic I'd ever written and I'd rather it not sit and gather dust for the foreseeable future, so I'll post chapters 1-3 slowly since I'm an attention seeking asshole. Also I don't plan on working on it anymore.

Harry gasped in pain as he dashed behind a broken piece of wall. He felt his side. Something was definitely broken.

“It would be really nice if hermione was here,” Harry thought with a lopsided smile. “She's the one who knew the most effective healing spells out of the three of us. And Ron would be buying time for me to heal.”

He felt hot tears threaten to overflood his eyes as he pictured a bushy haired scholar and a red haired strategist. Now wasn't the time to grieve or beat himself up over their deaths. He had done that enough over the past few months. Besides, he only had a bit more to do before joining them anyway.

Bright lights from various spells and curses whizzed past his hiding place. Harry smiled tiredly at gryffindor’s reclaimed sword. The death eaters had found him. He had what he was here for, so it was time to get back to camp.

Harry shut his eyes and disapparated with a nearly inaudible pop.

* * *

A dark figure loomed over a kneeling death eater, who was trembling slightly as he delivered the news.

“My Lord, Harry Potter got away, he disapparated. the wards could not stop him.”

“And what did he take?” questioned a cold voice. The pressure was suffocating.

The masked figure hesitated for a moment, and stuttered “G-Gryffindor‘s sword.” Voldemort's rage broke over, and the hapless death eater writhed and screamed as he was hit by several cruciatus curses.

* * *

Harry started and immediately doubled over in pain. Voldemort was mad. Really mad. However, fear and apprehension leaked through as well. 

The now receding ache from his scar was debilitating. Harry’s occlumency was typically sufficient enough to hold up, barely so, but today, Voldemort's raging emotions blasted through on sheer force alone.

He hauled himself up onto the nearest chair to rest for a bit, then downed another healing potion, hastily prepared weeks ago, to regain his strength. He could faintly recall Ron slapping it with a stasis charm at some point. Mentally thanking Hermione for her skill in potions, he got up without a great deal of pain.

5 horcruxes were swiftly snatched from deceivingly tiny beaded bag, and Harry stabbed them with gryffindor’s basilisk poison infused sword. He merely looked on dully as each let out a bloodcurdling scream. Nagini had been killed when Voldemort was still unaware of the trio’s goals, so there was only 1 horcrux left now. Voldemort would destroy that one himself.

He allowed himself a small smile, despite his impending doom. He would meet all of his friends and family soon. Harry had been waiting for death to claim him for a long time, after all.

He disassembled the tent, shrunk it, and fit it into his pocket, then set off to face the bastard who had plagued him since a time he hardly remembered.

__

* * *

A fierce volley of spells, curses, and charms flew around as the two dueled. Harry hadn't brought allies, as he didn't know who to trust, and even if he did, he wouldn't due to fear for their lives. Regardless, Voldemort's assistance from his death eaters had virtually ceased. They were too absorbed in watching them duel or defending themselves from collateral damage and deflected spells.

The death eaters could begin to tell their lord was losing, even through the afterglow and haze of colliding spells. Harry noted that none of them lifted a wand to help.

Eventually, he knew he had to let himself die, but first, he must weaken Voldemort enough for his final attack to work. Getting that bastard’s judgement skills down enough was critical to the dark lord’s demise.

Harry knew it was time when he saw the dark lord sink onto his knees. 

He cast a spell not unlike a ticking bomb, before he let himself get hit. He glowed with an eerie light when the killing curse struck him, before crumpling to the ground, dead.

The clearing was filled with a stunned silence. Voldemort rose unsteadily to his feet with a look of disbelief mingled with triumph. A crooked and unnerving smile slowly split his face.

Without noticing his imminent death, he began his victory speech.

“My loyal death eaters, today i have finally slain the most persistent of our enemies! I have at long last fulfilled the prophe-”

An intense explosion cut him off with a deafening din. Anyone or anything within 20 yards was incinerated into a crisp, and when the smoke cleared, the charred remains of the dark lord and his followers could be seen crumbling into dust.

* * *

When Harry awoke, he glanced around at the blindingly white landscape around him. 

“If this is the afterlife, it sure looks a lot like King’s Cross train station,” he commented aloud. 

He got up to look around, but nearly fell back down when a blazing whirl of flame appeared without warning.

“Fawkes?”

The phoenix chirped cheerfully in response.

“Why are you here? Where is everyone?” asked Harry. He choked up a bit as he thought about everybody he’d lost.

A scene suddenly flashed in his mind. It was of Dumbledore and Fawkes, who were in the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore looked saddened and weary. Even the typical twinkle in his eye was absent.

“Fawkes, i know Harry must go through trials like no other. He will undoubtedly see horrors no boy his age should endure. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but the prophecy demands it.”

The phoenix looked at his master worriedly. There was no doubt he had understood.

“That is why I shall ask one last request of you. When Harry defeats Voldemort at last, help him recover.”

Dumbledore paused and thought for a moment, then said, “Do whatever you believe will help him the most. I trust your judgement better than my own sometimes. After all, much of his suffering could have been lessened if I had taken better options.”

A determined glint flashed in Fawkes eyes.

“I would have done that anyway, even without that request,” stated a resonating voice. It seemed to echo in a contained manner in his head.

Harry blinked. Did Fawkes just speak into his mind?

The phoenix gave him a slightly playful look, and answered with a “Yes, I can.” Fawkes gently headbutted him. Then, out of nowhere, he said, “i wish to send you to another world.”

“ _ What?” _

“A world where your friends and family were never killed,” Fawkes continued, ignoring Harry's sudden stillness. “And Pettigrew was always faithful to your parents. Voldemort is still alive there and the prophecy still exists, but this time, you’ll have a chance to protect them. I believe you'd rather go there than stay in your original world.” 

“That is a good argument, I suppose,” he replied after a moment of contemplation. A numb feeling spread throughout his body

“So, will you accept the offer?” prompted Fawkes.

Harry, lost in thought, didn't respond for a few minutes.

“I accept.”

Fawkes wrapped his wings softly around Harry, and in a blaze of fire, they disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

When Harry opened his eyes, he found himself in a small clearing in a forest. The birds were singing, the sun shined, and next to him, the occasional fish left ripples across the lake’s surface. It was just a normal forest. 

Something felt off, though. His eyes scanned the trees. Was everything a bit... _ bigger  _ than normal?

He caught a glance at his reflection in the lake. A kid stared back from the water. They both held eye contact for over a minute, and sighed.

“Why didn't Fawkes tell me this was a side effect?” muttered Harry duly. “I don't want to deal with puberty again.”

Harry got up and realized his foot was numb. Apparently, he had been sitting in an awkward position for quite a while. He cursed his luck, and checked his surroundings again. No people.

This seemed to be a safe area. He took out his wand and cast a human detection charm. Still, no people. It was doubtful that the trace wasn't on him in this world, so he got up and cast the usual defensive, repelling, and undetection spells to ensure that nobody would come upon him accidentally. Then, he set up his tent. He might be here for a while.

After that was over, he stretched, transformed into a coyote, and ambled into the woods. If someone did see him, they'd probably just mistake him for an odd dog.

The forest was beautiful, especially to a war-torn veteran. He gazed around, mesmerized. However, sometimes caught his attention. Through a gap in some thick bushes, there seemed to be a muggle town.

The town was somewhat small, but large enough that it was relatively busy. He watched as an abandoned newspaper waved lazily in the breeze in an outdoor cafe. 

Silently, transformed back and conjured up a scarf to cover his neck. He pulled out a bandage from his pocket, and covered his lightning bolt scar. It seemed to fuse with his skin, and soon, his forehead looked clear and smooth. Chances are, if anyone did see those scars, there would be questions he didn't want to answer.

He walked up to the table. It was the Daily Prophet. It was just what Harry needed, but what was a newspaper for the magical in a muggle town?

The top of the Daily Prophet told him that the date was the fifth of August, 1999. That was 6 years before his original world’s time. At least he would prepare himself earlier, even if he did have to be a 13 year old again.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a familiar voice. 

“Hey, why are you reading my newspaper?” The voice sounded curious rather than mean.

_ “Neville?  _ What was he doing here?” He turned to face Neville. A practiced facade of calmness took over. A single scar, while partially covered by his hair, was visible on Neville’s forehead.

“Oh, I thought it was abandoned,” Harry replied evenly. “Nobody was around and the table was clear. Also, why did you leave a Daily Prophet in a muggle town?”

“You do bring up a good point, I guess. The paper is charmed so muggles can't see it. I'm Neville Longbottom, nice to meet you, but unfortunately, I guess you might have realized who I am by now,” he smiled tiredly.

“I like to visit muggle towns. Peace is nice,” Neville muttered. Harry caught what he was hinting at perfectly.

“Ah, I know what you mean. The attention’s pretty uncomfortable, I mean it must be. Fame has a harder time chasing you when you aren’t around magicals though.”

They sat in an awkward silence. They were technically just acquaintances, not loyal-to-death friends. Not yet, at least.

“So, are you from out of town? I haven't see you around here before.” Asked Neville.

“I’m new to town, I just made it here from London,” Harry lied. “I wanted to move somewhere quieter.”

“Wow, so I guess you're our neighbor, huh. The Potters also live pretty close, but nobody knows where exactly, of course. What's your name? We might as well get to know each other now rather than later.”

The Potters live nearby? Harry began to drift into his thoughts yet again as another less familiar voice called out.

“Neville! You're going to miss lunch at out house! It's already 2:27!”

“I'm coming, Lissie!” Shouted Neville. “Do you wanna come? I doubt Mrs. Potter would mind another mouth to feed.”

“No, I shouldn't, I'll just have a sandwich at this cafe or something.” Answered Harry.

“Oh, come on, you're the first magical neighbor we've had since forever, and plus, you're as thin as a twig! A nice meal couldn't hurt.” Neville exclaimed.

“Well, I-” Harry replied uncertainty. He was giving in faster than he sensibly should, but he did want to see his family and he couldn't formulate an excuse that didn't seem rude or thinly veiled. Finally, he nodded.

“Great! We should meet up with Lissie’s dad, he'll apparate us to Potter Manor.”

Harry swallowed thickly. He was about to meet his father. A father from an alternate universe, but still, his father. Well, he kind of wasn't, too.

The two walked until they saw a girl their age. She had wild, short, deep red hair, and brown eyes. Next to her was a bespectacled, wild-haired man holding some shopping bags.

“Lissie! Mr. Potter!” Called Neville. “Look! We just got another magical neighbor!”

“A neighbor? We haven't had one since you, Neville.” Replied Mr. Potter with a curious wide grin. “What's your name?”

“I'm Harrison Smith,” Harry said his fake name seamlessly. It was an alias he made up on the fly once, but for some reason it stuck.

“Well then, Harrison, would you like to join us for lunch? You look a bit hungry.” Said Mr. Potter.

“A bit hungry? That's an understatement! Look at him!”

Proclaimed Neville. For better or for worse, it seemed like this world’s Neville was more vocal about his thoughts.

Lissie, who was watching the whole time, muttered, “you know, mum and Iris are gonna get mad at us if we don't hurry up. Remember the last time they both got mad?”

Mr. Potter gave a dramatic shudder. “All too well. Let's go. Have you ever done side-along apparition before, Harrison? I know it can be very uncomfortable.”

“Yes, sir. I'll be fine.” Replied Harry.

Mr. Potter grabbed onto Lissie and Neville, and Neville grabbed onto Harry.

“Ready? Let's go!” 

A thunderous crack resounded as the group of four disappeared.

*****

“Really! They're so late!” Grumbled Mrs. Potter. “They knew we'd have a nice meal waiting for them and they lost track of time again. Iris, can you fetch the two-way mirr-” 

A crack interrupted her, signaling that the object of her displeasure had arrived. She quickly stepped into the main garden, which looked welcoming, but not too fancy, and went to face her husband.

“Why are you so late? You knew toda-” she dropped her irritated expression as she saw Harry, and replaced it with a curious one instead. 

Mr. Potter jumped at an opportunity to escape a lecture. “He’s Harrison Smith, Lil. He just moved in not too long ago. We invited him to lunch.” He explained.

“A new neighbor? How nice of you to invite him!” She seemed to forget she was angry a second ago. “Hello, Harrison, I'm Mrs. Potter, nice to meet you. Where are you parents, though? It would be nice to greet them.”

Harry froze up inside. “I should have expected this.” He thought. “We actually moved in a while ago, we were spending all of our time unpacking. I just got away for a bit, so they know I'm out. They're busy right now.” It was choppy lie but it would do for now.

“Well alright then dear, tell them we said hello.” Said Mrs. Potter.

“I will.” Replied Harry.

*****

Lunch was a fun affair with Neville and the Potter family, even he couldn't eat as much as he wanted. He watched them introduce themselves with a small smile on his face.

Lissie was apparently short for “Amaryllis,” but she considered it too fancy for her tastes. Iris, her twin sister, had hazel eyes and straight black hair kept in a waist-length ponytail (somehow, she escaped the curse of Potter hair).

Both sisters wore round glasses just like their father, and in turn, Harry. Luckily or not, they also inherited the spirit of the Marauders, with the added benefit of looking more innocent, a benefit received from their mother.

It was kind of awkward that he was the shortest of the Potter children, though. But constantly being malnourished did that to you.

Neville, after his parents had been murdered, was taken in by his grandmother and move here since they were close. Growing up with good friends seemed to have had a great impact on him, as he wasn't nervous at all.

Mrs. And Mr. Potter’s children have never completely been under threat of Voldemort since Lissie and Iris were born on the first of August, therefore eliminating them from being the subject of the prophecy. Neither of them seem to have realized they had narrowly escaped death and a potential tragic fate for their children.

After they finished lunch, the twins excitedly dragged everyone down to the quidditch pitch. Mrs. Potter could be heard sighing about quidditch fanatics the whole was down, although she hid a simmering excitement in the grin on her face.

Harry was also on the verge of sighing, though for different reasons. He wished he could've brought his firebolt out, but that would be way too questionable. Pretty much nobody could afford it, and it might not even exist here and now.

The twins and Neville didn't notice, since they were too excited about seeing how good Harry was on a broom. They were swept off their feet by his dives, swerves, technique, and instinct. The three were cheering by the time he landed and begged him to be their seeker at Hogwarts, a spot left open due to lack of a good replacement.

After they convinced Harry (which wasn't hard at all), Neville said, “Ron and Hermione will go crazy! Well, maybe not so much Hermione, but Ron’ll definitely be really happy.”

Harry gave a small smile. He had been hoping Neville was friends with Hermione and Ron.

They all tossed around a quaffle for a bit, but it spiraled into a game of monkey in the middle with Neville having the ball kept from him. However, all good things must come to an end, so at about 8 o'clock, Harry found himself waving goodbye and promising to meet up at the outdoor cafe tomorrow.

After making sure everyone was gone, he walked back into the forest and morphed into a coyote, strolling along as he watched wisps of cloud drift across the sky. He reached camp after about 30 minutes. 

The lake’s flawless surface perfect reflected the crescent moon and the star speckled sky. He tossed a pebble in and the reflection momentarily faltered, but returned moments later. He laid on the soft grass and was soon asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some torture in the beginning, since I was like that back then. 
> 
> *If you want to avoid it, it's done by, "Harry sat up with a start."

His eyes flew open to see a blood splattered death eater hovering over his face holding a wand. They were in suffocating hovel with no windows. The flickering flame danced danced across Harry’s skin, illuminating fresh wounds and blood soaked clothes.

“Are you missing your little friends~?” the death eater said in a singsong voice. The tone was painfully out of place and would've made anybody cringe.

Harry could only shoot a weak glare at the death eater.

“So, you can't even follow directions properly. Oh dear, I do believe this warrants a bit of punishment, wouldn't you say?” 

The death eater conjured a rope and slowly tightened it around Harry's neck. The already rough material had tiny shards of glass embedded in it, and it grazed, cut, and bruised at the same time. Soon, he was struggling for breath and clawing at the rope, his nails leaving lines down his neck. The pressure and panic was building quickly, higher and higher until-

Harry sat up with a start. His chest was heaving and all the blood had drained out of his face. Nervously, he felt the scars around his neck. He had gotten them early in the journey, when both Ron and Hermione were alive. He had truly thought he was going to die that day. 

Fortunately, Hermione, the genius she was, managed to locate him before it was too late. Ron had burst through the door when the death eater was unguarded and stunned the sadistic bastard so hard the poor fellow nearly suffocated himself. He deserved it though.

They got Harry back to camp and tried to heal him. Back then, Hermione was still new to healing, and was only brave enough to use some simple healing charms. She never managed to get rid of the marks in the end.

At that point, He realized he was trembling. He checked his right pocket for his wand, but was surprised to find something smooth, round, and pleasantly cool. 

He pulled it out and saw a light blue egg with white speckles. As soon as he laid eyes on it, the nervous tension building up inside dissipated and his prior breathlessness eased. Harry looked up as beams of sunlight penetrated the clouds on the horizon. He was going to be okay.

Was there a calming charm on this egg? Whatever it was, the egg felt nice resting on his hand. How did it get in his pocket? Well, no matter how it got there, he might as well take care of the egg now that he had it. That was the feeling he got, anyway. He felt oddly trusting of it not to hatch into a raging dragon or something.

Harry transfigured a nearby branch into softly lined basket and placed the egg into it. The egg almost seemed to glow with appreciation. Or maybe he imagined it.

Harry looked around his camp. Soon, Neville and the rest would probably want to visit his house, and would see that he didn't have one. That would lead to awkward questions that everyone would want the answers to. 

Building a house would take time, so he should start now. Harry stood up, stretched, and set to work.

*****

“I'm so glad I have magic,” said Harry to himself. The framework and basement was finally done. He planned to add 2 floors to his house. At one point, he realized that the house pictured in his mind looked awfully similar to the Burrow, so he altered it a bit. Ron might make a note of that if he left it that way.

Harry's stomach growled. It was time to eat, not use some nutrient charms. They'll keep you alive, but you'll still feel the hunger. The sun was high up in the sky, so it was time to meet his friends soon anyway.

He grabbed the basket with the odd egg, then walked into the sun dappled woods. He arrived at the cafe before everyone else, so he brought a pastry while waiting.

“At least I don't have to ask my parents for money. And it would be suspicious if a random kid somehow got access into the Potter’s Gringotts vaults.” Harry, before he left number 4, Privet Drive for good, withdrew a large sum of money. It was all stuffed in a magically expanded pouch. Thank Merlin he always kept all his money on him or else he’d have to take a job or something now. 

Iris and Lissie arrived first. Lissie was reading a large, complicated-looking book. That was likely bad news, as she was a prankster. Iris was the stronger of the two, physically and magically, and carried out heavy lifting of most pranks.

“Lo, Harry!” called Iris. “Neville will be here soon. His grandma is holding him back for something.”

“Yup, Neville’s probably being lectured for dodging his summer homework,” responded Lissie. She looked up from her book. “Say, what’s with the egg, Harrison? What’s it gonna hatch into?”

“I don't actually know,” admitted Harry. “I just found it in my pocket and I feel like I should take care of it.”

“Wow, I've never seen that egg in Fantastic Beasts. Do you think it's a new species?” asked Iris with an excited glint in her eye.

Lissie nudged Harry and said, “Sis has that book memorized. She loves magical beasts. I reckon that Hagrid passed the bug to her.”

Iris elbowed her playfully and Lissie did it back. They kept doing it and somehow dragged Harry into it. It probably would've continued on, but fortunately, Neville arrived and interrupted.

“Hey, what's the egg? I've never seen it before.”

The playfight broke apart. “We don't know,” Harry admitted.

“Should we take it to my parents, Harry?” asked Iris. It was plain as day that she was very curious.

“Yeah, maybe we should.” Replied Harry.

Iris nodded at Lissie, and Lissie took out the two way mirror. Everyone crowded around her as they watched the mirror focus onto Mrs. Potter’s face.

“Oh, hello sweetie, something rather odd happened, Headmaster Dumbledore just showed up unannounced and asked for some tea! He's never done this before, but he is a little eccentric, you know.”

“Mum, Harry found and weird egg and Iris doesn't know what it is, can you tell what it is?”

“I can't tell through the mirror, Lissie. Do you want me to come over for a second?”

“Sure, why not.”

A few minutes passed by. Iris and Lissie looked confused. “She should've gotten here by now, what's taking so long?” Iris asked.

A loud pop answered her. Mrs. Potter appeared and said, “Ah, sorry about that. Professor Dumbledore asked for Harrison to come over. I reckon that he might know what that egg is when you ask.”

They all nodded, and took each other's hand. Then they disapparated. A second later, they landed in front of Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling. As they typically are.

“Hello there, children, how nice to see you.” Dumbledore gave a small bow. Harry almost let out an amused huff. He hadn't changed a bit.

Fawkes appeared in midair, and with an echoing call, he landed next to Harry's basket. They shared a glance. Everyone then turned Dumbledore with an expectant look in their eyes. 

Dumbledore’s amused smile grew bigger as Mr. And Mrs. Potter joined in. Finally, he said, “That, my dear friends and pupils, is the egg of a snow cloak phoenix.” 

They were stunned into silence. The only sound to be heard was a giggling trill escaping from Fawkes' beak.

“But--how--why did it choose me?” Sputtered Harry. According to a book he read, they only chose the purest of heart. But then again, neither he nor the headmaster was completely pure, now that he thought about it.

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “It is officially unknown how phoenixes choose their masters. Although they never seem to pick evil wizards or witches, the people who have been chosen have mostly been rather different in both goals and personality. Afterall, the only other domesticated phoenix is the mascot of a quidditch team.”

“Give it a guess, Headmaster Dumbledore,” nudged Harry. “They've alway been rather scarily accurate.” Agreement spread through the room and everyone’s eyes locked onto the wizened man.

Dumbledore looked around the room, and the twinkle in his eye sparkled brighter than ever. “To the best of my knowledge, it depends on the phoenix themself. Each and every phoenix’s values are different. Every egg just seems to know what master they want, and will “follow” their chosen human until it hatches. Even the phoenixes themselves don't know how the eggs do it.”

“Follow?” Asked Mrs. Potter. “What do you mean by “follow?”

“Just pick it up and see,” replied Dumbledore.

She stepped forward and lifted the egg into her hands, but before any of them realized what had happened, it vanished and reappeared next to Harry.

“That is what I mean, Mrs. Potter. Young Harrison and the unhatched phoenix are now bound through ancient magical ties undecipherable to us, and it would be unwise to interfere.”

The egg glowed a little brighter, as if agreeing to his statement.

“Professor, how will I care for the egg? How long until it hatches?” Asked Harry.

“It depends on the magical power of the person the egg is bound to. The stronger the person in question is, the faster it hatches. Mine only took a day.”

“Typical overachiever.” Muttered Fawkes.

Harry and Dumbledore let out a chuckle, while the rest looked confused. Dumbledore explained, “Only one chosen by a phoenix can understand them.”

“I wish I had a phoenix, then,” said Iris wistfully.

“Well, you can just make ‘Harrison Smith’ translate for you.” Dumbledore looked at Harry in a meaningfully. Looks like Fawkes told him.

“Oh dear, it's time to go! I've got an interview to go to seeing as I finally found a new DADA teacher who's willing to take a job. I do believe I will see you very soon, though.” 

He walked out briskly. The roar of floo travel resounded, signaling that Dumbledore had left.

****

Harry collapsed onto the grass. “I'm done! I finally finished it!” His new home had red brick walls and a small chimney sticking out of the top. Windows were scattered somewhat haphazardly around the walls.

Much of it was held up by magic and charms since Harry didn't actually understand how to put everything together. The charms would hold up because he tied them to a magic storing sphere, and all he had to do was imbue it with magic from time to time to keep up the supply. It also passively absorbed magic energy from the air to gain a slight boost. Harry was pretty proud of it.

He glanced at the phoenix egg. It had already been a couple of days and the egg was definitely glowing brighter with each passing hour. He suspected it would hatch very soon. 

Harry sighed. The Longbottoms and Potters liked to invite him over to their homes, and Harry felt that if he didn't invite them over, it would seem strange. None of them had ever seen his parents, either, and even though he'd say they were out on an extremely long business trip, they were starting to become worried. If he tried to stop them from visiting, they would likely grow even more suspicious.

Again, he sighed. This time, he was thinking of Ron, Hermione, and Luna. How were they doing right now? Ron might be doing last minute research, or maybe trouncing somebody in a game of chess. Hermione could be pouring over books and doing an overly in depth analysis on some random assignment. Luna, well, she would probably be searching for creatures her father made up, or making her butterbeer cap jewelry.

He felt a buzzing warmth knowing they were alive, and his gratitude toward Fawkes was almost palpable. He was so distracted that he barely registered a cracking noise next to him.

A tiny ice-like beak poked through a crack in the shell and made a rapid peeping noise. Instantly, Harry’s attention was hooked. He watched on, mesmerized, as the little chick gave a large heave and cracked through the egg. 

He lifted her up. The baby phoenix was small enough to sit comfortably in his hand. The little chick opened her large, deep blue eyes and gazed right into Harry’s vivid green. Ancient magic filled the air as they looked into each other's eyes.

Harry laid down under the starry night sky, and falling asleep watching his new companion rest between his cupped hands.


End file.
